Plastic Alaska Item Type Thesis Authors Namey, Jason Download date 30/09/2021 23:46:37 Link to Item http://hdl.handle.net/11122/8733 PLASTIC ALASKA By Jason Namey, B.A. A Thesis Submitted in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing University of Alaska Fairbanks May 2018 Gerri Brightwell, Committee Chair Kyle Mellen, Committee Member Rich Carr, Committee Member Rich Carr, Chair English Department Chair Todd Sherman, Dean College o f Liberal Arts Michael Castellini, Dean of Graduate School Abstract: The stories in Plastic Alaska depict characters losing—often literally—their own identities. Whether it be a young boy who believes that an Alaskan theme park ride transformed him into a different person, or a woman who finds herself compulsively imagining murdering her husband after watching a Terrence Malick film, or a desperate man who assumes the identity of his former best friend so he can get a job on a reality TV show, these characters find themselves thrown—sometimes reluctantly, sometimes willingly—into situations where they must leave their former selves behind just to survive the unwelcome intrusions of an absurd, demanding reality. Plastic Alaska shows—in worlds that range from the real to the fantastical—the dread, uneasiness, and occasional joy that accompanies metamorphosis. i ii Table of Contents Abstract ...................................................................................................................................... i Table of Contents .....................................................................................................................iii AlaskaLand ................................................................................................................................ 1 Pickle D ies ............................................................................................................................... 13 He Knows Where Fish Sleep................................................................................................. 27 The Nature of the Ish..............................................................................................................41 Badlands ...................................................................................................................................59 Three Studies of a Man Falling .............................................................................................. 71 Plastic Alaska ...........................................................................................................................87 The Somnambulists............................................................................................................... 105 Maybe It’s Some Things That Do Never Change...............................................................113 Isn’t There More to Your Life Than That? ......................................................................... 121 iii iv AlaskaLand Bobby had come to AlaskaLand with his dad and Ms. Joy but when he got off the Ferris Wheel they were where now? Certainly not where they were supposed to be. Bobby wondered if it was only ever himself who was wherever he was supposed to be. Or maybe it was only kids who were ever supposed to be places, and parents and adults were only supposed to be wherever it is they were. We’ll find you when you get off, just stay close to the exit, his dad had said, one arm around Ms. Joy, rubbing her lower back. Ms. Joy told fortunes for a living. That was all Bobby knew about her; he had only just met her this week. She had long hair that landed near her waist and wore loose, comfortable looking clothes. Green stones were strung across her neck. She smiled at Bobby’s dad, then took Bobby by the shoulder and walked with him up to the entrance, where she knelt and whispered in his ear—the first time all day she had said more to him than, “Quiet down now.” She told him: “Something here changed you. At first I just tasted it in the breeze, but now, I can tell by looking at you. You’re not Bobby anymore, no. I know that if I know anything at all.” He asked who he was, but she just squeezed his shoulder and returned to his dad. Bobby still felt like Bobby, was still shaped like Bobby. He sniffed himself and thought, I still smell like Bobby. But as he got onto the Ferris Wheel and turned back to wave, he saw already their eyes struggle to find him. Now, he stood at the exit like a polite boy while couples walked by, bodies linked like birdwings. A roller coaster climbed to his right. He glimpsed the shivering passengers, teenaged, shirtless to brag toughness with blue nipples. When it plunged, their screams ripped herky-jerky through chattering teeth. 1 An old man stood hunched over right in front of him, yellow toothed, gripping a cane that came past shoulder high. When the man saw Bobby, he dropped the wrapper he had been sniffing to growl something Bobby couldn’t make out. The man drooped his shoulders to lean in close, and Bobby smelled metal on his breath. Tin foil. When the man extended a hand pawlike in his direction, Bobby shook his head and darted into the crowd of people, all stepping and speaking at odd-tempos. After checking to make sure the man hadn’t followed, Bobby looked around again for his dad and Ms. Joy. All day they had been sneaking off to cramped rooms: photo booths, phone booths, bathrooms. Bobby figured if he wasn’t sure where exactly to go, it was best to cover as much ground as possible. Especially if he couldn’t rely on anyone else being able to recognize him. Besides, how close did his dad mean by “close”? A foot, a yard, a mile? He pulled out his phone to scan the crowd moving around him with his MovieScore App: employees stalking by in polar bear getup, a couple trying excitedly to drag their kid into the Alaska Oil Pipeline Simulator while she sat crying on the sidewalk. A line stuck into the walkway, coming from a booth called “How Long Could You Last in The Alaska Wilderness?” where a machine shot rapid fire quiz questions about berries, alternative hunting techniques, and counterintuitive sources of warmth. Bobby had scored fifteen minutes after the FaceMonitor saw him gag at skinning a moose. He inserted earbuds while his phone processed the scene. Tense, instrumental chase music started to flow. Bobby tugged at the seams of his shirt and tried to make-believe a scenario. Maybe something from the spy movie they had watched on the plane, when his dad 2 forgot to warn Bobby before one character got his knuckle stabbed through with a letter-opener, and Bobby cried while everyone looked over like, Aren’t you a little old for that? How can I be too old for it, if I’m doing it? he had thought. He pretended he had stolen confidential documents from the Ruskies and needed to find cover before the top trained sniper turncoat lined up his shot. He ran through the crowd, curving between legs before tripping over his own feet and falling into a puddle of spilt warm soda. A swarm of walnut-sized flies scattered. He lay there till the music grew to a beat so fast he felt his heart trying to outdo it and off he was, running again. He ducked behind trash cans and hugged the walls tight while the MovieScore sharpened, grew loud and urgent. He tried to turn the music down, but hit the wrong button and only made it worse. It gave him a headache, and he ripped his earbuds out, rubbing his eardrums to soothe the pain. Dazed, he looked around. The candy store appeared next to him like a cathedral from the mist. It must have been how many stories high? He allowed himself a moment of awe before running inside. When Bobby looked back at the door, he saw the old man limp by with his cane, examining crushed soda cans like each was a dropped pair of eyeglasses. How had he caught up, when Bobby had been running so fast? Nobody else even seemed to notice the old man until they near tripped over him. When he squinted over and pointed a finger at Bobby, Bobby spun around. And when was that but when he saw her. Bobby couldn’t see her face, but recognized the scar on her calf—the one he heard a different story about each time he asked. He wondered if she would be able to recognize him. “Mom?” He reached out and pulled the tail of her denim shirt. 3 “Bobby!” she exclaimed, then turned toward him and knelt. “Are you here with your father?” She glanced around. “Why aren’t you in Florida?” he said. The strangeness of seeing her here began to taint his initial relief. Bobby remembered when they told him his mom almost but didn’t quite have a personality; she borderline had one, which he thought was strange because it seemed to him she had enough personality for a whole family, which is why his Dad said she was better off by herself. “Just because that’s where you saw me last doesn’t mean that’s where I’m supposed to be.” Her eyes darted around the door and windows, picking at the ceiling like they were a toothpick cleaning it. “Are you all by yourself?” “I’m supposed to find Dad and Ms. Joy after I get off the Ferris Wheel.” “Oh my,” she said. “You’re lost.” “Dad and Ms. Joy,” Bobby said. “After I get off the Ferris Wheel, I’m supposed to find them.” “Well they’re not here.” She held her arms out to the store. “They’re not in these candy jars. They’re not in my pockets.” She bent down. “Come on, let’s get a bite and then I’ll help you look.” “I’m supposed to find them after I get off the Ferris Wheel,” Bobby said. He looked at the door. A roller coaster looped over buildings outside. Her spindly fingers enclosed his thin elbow, bone against bone. “After lasts a long time,” she said. “Did you try calling them?” “I don’t know,” Bobby said. “No.” “Speak with conviction,” she said. “Hand me your phone. I’ll call.” 4 He handed her his phone. She put it in her purse. “Come on.” She pulled him toward the door. Her grip shuddered like a landing aircraft. “It’s not polite to starve a woman and here I am, dizzy with hunger.” *** When they got to the restaurant, Bobby wondered if he would still like the same food he always had.